


just beyond haight st

by whiskerprince



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Accidental Dating, Adult Age Gap, General Dumbassery, M/M, and like...they have sex, and love each other and stuff, is it a sugar daddy au?, it might be a little bit, non-serious prescription drug and alcohol abuse, pharmacist + grad student au, sorry im fucking old i only care about stories of 20+ year olds, wild i know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskerprince/pseuds/whiskerprince
Summary: It just goes to show that proofreading ain't shit and all of Woojin's professors were wrong. Good thingscancome from colossal fuck-ups. Also, don't do drugs.





	just beyond haight st

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilhyojongvert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilhyojongvert/gifts).



> yes i'm aware this is the second woochan multichap fic i've started. no i don't care.
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY AUBREY!!!!! this fic is our lovechild, born from me making a shitty joke about a funny tweet that we decided to take seriously because....yeah. that's what we do. i love you so so so much. [yanan voice] MY BABIE! i hope you enjoy at least 70% of this.

 

Woojin is hungover at 12:21 in the afternoon on a Tuesday.

 

He’s also at work, which bodes as well as one might imagine. It had taken five attempts inserting his key into the door to the backroom this morning before Woojin had finally unlocked it with a cuss and a kick to the fake wood paneling. Jimin, his ever-observant and somewhat-tolerant supervisor had fixed him with a look that said _Really?_ before pointing him towards the counter. Pickup duty for the deadweight who couldn't be trusted to tell the difference between insulin shots and horse tranquilizer. Woojin supposes he has no one but himself to blame for his lack of promotion.

 

But Woojin is here and not skipping out of work to sulk in his own misery juices, so he adjusts his name tag (Woojin Kim: Pharmacist), tugs the lumps out of his lab coat, and pastes on the tired but benevolent smile he was lauded for in his client care class back in pharmacy school to greet the first customers of the day.

 

Woojin sees the usual demographics throughout the day: high school and college girls in ponytails texting while he fetches their monthly birth control; curly-haired and pock-marked boys pulling their beanies over their hair picking up generic Adderall equivalents; middle-aged parents and their cocktail of blood pressure, cholesterol, and heart burn medications; elderly clients with the good opiates Jimin has to come over to sign off on. Birth control, birth control, SSRI, SSRI, antihistamines, alprazolam, diazepam, and the occasional antipsychotic. Woojin's nodding off by the time the lunch rush is dying down and it's just a kid in a black hoodie, a dad who doesn't speak English and his kid as a translator, and two suburban mothers with three blonde little girls between them.

 

Not to be the stereotypical pharmacist who wants to blow their own brains out, but Woojin is daydreaming about lunch break and hoping that the plastic travel mug he keeps his emergency store of rum in hasn't melted into the alcohol. Would be a shame if the plastic and ethanol performed any unfortunate reactions that would result in his untimely death if he drank it. Or not. Whatever.

 

"Do you want to take a long lunch break?" Jimin asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter next to him.

 

 _Yes_. "No, I'm fine, seriously Jamie," Woojin says. "I need to get myself together, that's all."

 

"You're not getting yourself together by puking in the employee toilet and showing up to work smelling like a keg grew legs and decided to pick up organic chemistry."

 

 _Ouch_. Jimin's fingernails are bright pink and painted with glittery gold flowers, tapping against her arm. Woojin wonders if she'd let him come over again for facemasks and somaek, but he's not going to push his luck today.

 

She sighs and squeezes his shoulder. "I'm going to take break, then. And if I happen to cheat on this diet and duck over to Chick-fil-A, then you'll be in business for an extra fifteen, okay?"

 

Woojin offers her a wan but genuine smile. "Thank you, Jamie."

 

She pats him on the cheek gently. "Don't say noona never does anything for you."

 

Woojin wouldn't. She does so much.

 

He's playing solitaire on the work computer, a few moves away from a new best, when he hears a cough at the counter. Woojin glances up. "How can I help—oh?"

 

It's the kid from earlier, pale as shit with dark circles under his eyes. He's shifting in place a little and when Woojin meets his eyes he wets his lips. Woojin pouts his lips. "Something the matter?" he asks, stepping away from the game.

 

"Y—no, no it's, ah—" The kid's voice is deeper than Woojin had expected and pleasantly accented. He wracks his brain for the interaction they had had earlier in the day and comes up blank. Did long-term drug and alcohol abuse affect memory loss when it came to remembering the details of interpersonal interactions? Woojin is fairly sure he read a paper like that in his reading group but, humorously enough, can't remember. Had he even asked the kid his name? It couldn't have been more than an hour ago. _Damn, Woojin. You're really losing it_.

 

"I had a—a question. About the medication. And...how I should...take it." He's a lot more flustered than Woojin would expect for simple drug fact information but not everyone was gifted with Woojin's even-keel comfort across most social situations. And today Woojin _did_ probably look a little like a mad scientist.

 

"Sure," Woojin says. Then winces. "Remind me of your name?"

 

"Christopher Bang," he says, and the way he enunciates _Bang_ gives Woojin pause.

 

"You got family abroad?" Woojin asks in Korean.

 

Chris blinks rapidly and then, haltingly, replies in Korean, "Yes, mom's side in Korea and dad's side moved to Australia."

 

Woojin makes an interested hum and pulls up Chris's information. "Zoinks," he mutters. 10mg Ambien, the higher strength dose. He eyes Chris. "I hope you aren't much of a drinker," Woojin says in English again, ignoring the contradiction.

 

"Just a couple beers with the boys," Chris says. "I don't drive."

 

 _Couple of beers?_ Woojin checks his birth date only to find that Chris is no more a kid than Woojin is. Oof. College boy. Suddenly the insomnia and prescription drugs make sense. "Well, you're taking 10mg now, did you want to change your dosage? You can go down to 5mg, but there isn't a higher strength for Ambien. Either way, you should call your doctor first."

 

"No, that's—um," Chris says. "That's not really...what I..."

 

Woojin frowns. He had asked about administering the drug too, hadn't he? Was he new to taking pills or something? "As for taking it, you just swallow the pill whole, like with Advil."

 

"Um," Chris says. And then says no more, but retrieves a translucent orange pill bottle from his hoodie pocket and puts it on the counter in front of Woojin. Waits for Woojin to take it.

 

Woojin sighs, irritated. His head was starting to pound from this inane interaction and he wants to hide in the back until Jimin gets back and nurse this hangover with like, Arizona tea or something. He picks up the pill bottle and examines the information printed on it. And then it's his turn to color and cough, pointedly, into his elbow.

 

"Um," Woojin says. "This is..."

 

"Yeah," Chris says.

 

Printed just above Chris's name and below the drug name and dosage are the instructions 'SWALLOW WHORE.'

 

There aren't enough opiates in the entire pharmacy to kill Woojin fast enough.

 

The worst part is that Woojin knows exactly who is to blame for this inappropriate and unprofessional typo: himself. He had been typing up the labels last week, working overtime, high off his ass on Valium. It was neither impossible nor unlikely that Woojin had fucked up on one of the most routine portions of data entry. And this poor college boy had to suffer for it. Or was trying to sue him and being very roundabout in his accusations, but Woojin chose to be positive.

 

"I...am so sorry," Woojin says. "When my supervisor gets back I will make sure we remedy this at once—"

 

"No, that's not—" Chris wets his lips again. "That's not necessary."

 

Woojin holds the pill bottle like a hand grenade, eyeing Chris warily. "Then...is there something I can do for you?"

 

Chris shrugs his shoulders, stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans, then shrugs again. "I think I'm fine. But maybe there's, ah, something I can do? For you?"

 

Woojin had watched this porno once, a babe of a secretary walks into the CEO's office and asks if there's anything he needs help with, ends with the guy getting his dick sucked under the table in a rolling chair and later her sizable tits pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office building. Woojin had found the squeaking of the rolling chair amusing and snorted before he found some other video to get off to. He's not laughing now.

 

In fact, who needs Valium when Woojin's soul has been ejected from his body, watching himself stare at the hopeful curl of this college boy's mouth? He can't believe this is happening. People don't propose sexual acts to other people in public. Not during the day. Not on _Tuesdays_. This is something that only happens in porn, and not the good ones.

 

"Uh, like what?" Woojin's dumb mouth says instead of laughing or staying quiet while he chucks the pill bottle at the guy.

 

The look on Chris's face says clear as day: _I don't know. I didn't think I'd get this far_. And it's comforting to Woojin, in a way, that neither of them know what the hell is going on. But Chris is a trooper and he rocks back on his heels and says, "I could...blow you?"

 

This is stupid. This is so motherfucking stupid. "I'm on the clock," Woojin says stupidly. _Here's a thought, Woojin's mouth, with love from Woojin's brain: just fucking say no?_

 

"Oh," Chris says. "I could wait?"

 

Woojin hopes he looks as alarmed as he feels.

 

"No, sorry," Chris says. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and scrubs them. "I'm sorry, this is stupid. I haven't been sleeping enough, hence the—" he gestures wordlessly to the pill bottle in Woojin's hand. "You have a lot of work and stuff, I'll just—just—"

 

Woojin is grateful one of them has come out of this incredulous stupor at the fact that things like this apparently _do_ happen in the real world, but Woojin's still in dreamland, losing his mind. What was Chris's plan, anyway? Suck him off behind the counter? Maybe let Woojin bend him over the sink in the employee bathroom after? It's a CVS for crying out loud. There's nowhere more public than this while still being a goddamn store. Even Walmart was more private. Chris would have to get down on his knees, tucked up against the wall, and pull _just_ Woojin's cock out to...to...

 

Woojin's cock twitches. He feels his dignity as a human being circling the drain. He can safely say that this is the lowest point of his life, and he took his organic final a week after his childhood pet died.

 

"Have you gotten your flu shot this year?" Woojin asks. _Fuck it. Fuck it._

 

"Wh-what?" Chris says.

 

"Your flu shot," Woojin says. "We offer them for free." _Nothing matters anyway._

 

"No?" Chris says.

 

"Well then, let me take you around the corner and we can get you squared away. Privately." _This was all some crazy fever dream and Woojin was dying from an unfavorable drug interaction and an over-depressed central nervous system._

 

"Okay," Chris squeaks, and follows Woojin to the cubicle attached to the pharmacy. Frosted glass door. Smiling poster of CVS employees pasted over it. Halloween-themed flu prevention poster taped over that. Woojin unlocks the door on the first try and ushers Chris in with a hand to the small of his back.

 

Cramped in the small space of the cubicle, Woojin realizes that while he's about the same height as Chris, he's broader than him, even in the sweatshirt. Chris notices this too and swallows.

 

"So," he says in a tiny voice. "Should I—"

 

"On your knees," Woojin says, voice coming out flat. Chris nearly stumbles with how fast he obeys. Woojin inhales and exhales, pushes the tails of his coat to the side so he can sit down on the chair in the cubicle. Chris slides forward, a warm hand on either of Woojin's knees.

 

Somehow, looking at Chris there between his legs makes this feel even less real. Without the haze of confusion and hangover and instead this blissful buzz clouding Woojin's head and making his skin tingle, he realizes how striking Chris is. Not just "college boy" but...objectively handsome college boy. Full lips. Strong nose. A head of springy, blonde-dyed wool. Woojin hasn't had a man for a few months now and no one this handsome since pharmacy school. It seems ridiculous that Chris would be between his legs and not some twinky musician or closeted frat boy. Woojin isn't even clean shaven. He's wearing the same boxers from last night.

 

He thinks, distantly, of wetting his thumb with his tongue and brushing it across Chris's lips. But this isn't a hook-up; Woojin is barely convinced it's happening. He resists.

 

Chris's eyes move to the camera over Woojin's shoulder and he shrinks against Woojin's calf. "There's a camera," he mumbles. Well aware that it's too late to disguise his intentions.

 

"I know the security guy," Woojin says. He does not say that they have a reciprocal arrangement; drugs slipped out of the back for an eye turned the other way. He does not say that this is not his first stint in a vaccine cubicle.

 

"Oh," Chris says. Eyes back on Woojin. "What do you like, um," he glances at Woojin's name plate, eyelashes fluttering, "...sir?"

 

Woojin's hand slides down the front of his pants, palming the shape of his cock. Hard. He's hard. "Something tells me," Woojin says, "that I'll like whatever you have to offer me, Chris." He unbuttons and unzips his pants slowly and Chris shifts in place, eyes on his crotch.

 

When Woojin pulls out his cock, ruddy and fat, Chris makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat. He can't be serious. Woojin wants to look up at the camera and gesture at Chris like, _can you believe this guy?_ Woojin can't. Woojin can't believe that Chris's hands are sliding up the inside of his thighs, taking his cock from him.

 

"Yes sir," Chris whispers.

 

And that's real—that grip. Woojin's breath hitches when Chris holds him tight from the start, squeezing and twisting his shaft until Woojin's blood is roaring and his cock is swollen and curved. And those are rea—those hands. Veiny and wide—a man's hands. Attached to a pretty face. Handsome boy, man's hands, man's grip.

 

Pretty mouth. And a soft mouth—hesitant as it settles around Woojin's head, suckling just a little and swiping his tongue around the circumference of it. Plush and bathing Woojin's tip in warmth and wetness. Woojin swears and his hips jerk. Damn. _Damn_.

 

But Chris is patient in his exploration. He holds Woojin's cock and laps at the length of it, tongue dragging back along the bottom. His kitten licks at the tip are offset by more squeezing, twisting pressure and his free hand pawing for Woojin's boxers. He reaches in and rolls Woojin's balls gently in his hand, fitting them snugly into his broad palm, warm fingers a sensitive massage that has Woojin canting his hips _again_.

 

"Shit, Chris," he murmurs.

 

"Is it good?" Chris asks, pressing his lips to Woojin's shaft in a soft kiss.

 

What can Woojin say? It's been a while? His girlfriends didn't do oral? No one has touched his sac like that except himself? They're all pathetic, so Woojin just says, "Let me feel your mouth."

 

Vague instructions, but Chris is apparently versed in turning his partners into horny putty. He stops fucking around and swirls his tongue around Woojin's head, tonguing his slit twice before easing the heat of his mouth onto Woojin's length. Pillowy lips, a hot, flat tongue, and gratuitous saliva pooling in Chris's mouth—what little of his cock that Chris hasn't taken is almost purple with pleasure.

 

Chris looks at Woojin when he starts to slide up and down. His cupid's bow stretches obscenely around Woojin's thickness. Saliva coats his chin. The scent of sex is heavy in Woojin's nose. Chris looks at him through glazed eyes and pulls Woojin's hand to his head. An invitation. Encouragement. Woojin's fingers tangle in Chris's curls.

 

At first, he tugs a little, earning tiny noises in the back of Chris's throat. But then Woojin notices how the tugging makes Chris's grip around his sac go limp and he experimentally tries to move Chris's head. Chris lets him. Chris lets Woojin fuck his mouth along Woojin's cock, almost cross-eyed and as dazed as Woojin feels. Woojin cradles the back of Chris's skull and tries to up the pace, but just a few seconds of the quick back-and-forth and Woojin is yanking himself out of Chris's mouth and coming on his face.

 

Chris jolts at the first splatter across his chin, lips, and cheek, just below his eye. But closes his eyes and relaxes into the next pathetic burst of cum that settles into the dip where cheek meets nose, a few drops landing on his eyelashes. His eyes flutter open and his tongue chases the taste of Woojin's cum.

 

"Fuck," Woojin blurts out. And then, even stupider, "I thought your instructions were to swallow."

 

He means it as a joke, something to lighten the mood of having just come all over someone he's never spoken to before without warning, but Chris's eyes darken. He grips Woojin's not-quite-soft cock with a different sense of purpose. Woojin lets out a humiliating squeak. Chris latches onto just the head of Woojin's cock and suckles hard, his hand working Woojin's shaft back to full hardness with frightening speed.

 

"Shit, you can't just fucking—" Woojin hisses, but it dissolves into just, "Shit, shit, shit!" as Chris starts to use lathe his tongue along the underside of Woojin's cock sloppily, making a lewd slurping sound that sets all Woojin's hair on end. He grabs Chris by the hair and pulls his mouth fully onto his cock, heart pounding. Chris makes a noise of protest and Woojin tugs at his hair in warning.

 

There's the sound of footsteps outside the cubicle. The shadow of feet passes in front of the frosted glass, and pause for a long moment. Both Chris and Woojin are still.

 

"Ugh, it's behind glass," the girl says into her phone. "Yeah, even the generic. What the fuck, I thought pharmacies were supposed to like, protect your privacy with this shit. No, it's fine, just annoying." Her feet move on.

 

After a moment, Woojin sits back from where he had curled over Chris to—do what? Protect his dignity? By shoving him further onto Woojin's cock? God, but his mouth still feels so good, drool gathering and dripping from his lips and mouth and tongue working helplessly around Woojin's cock. Woojin looks down on Chris, his grip loosening a little.

 

Chris's eyes are wet.

 

Woojin jerks back, fear of hurting this boy clogging his throat, but Chris's fingers dig harder into his thighs, keeping him from moving. He's shaking slightly, not looking Woojin in the eyes even as he keeps Woojin from pulling out of his mouth. Woojin watches his Adam's apple bob, a line of saliva and cum dangling from his chin. He's not sure what to do.

 

And then, he is. He gives a tentative, short thrust into Chris's mouth, still gripping his skull. Chris's eyes flutter shut, tears running from the corners, and he goes limp under Woojin's hands even as he grips Woojin's thighs as hard as he can. Woojin thrusts once more, and then again, and then again, until he's fucking into his mouth, Chris sucking as hard as he can without being sloppy. His eyes open, red and shiny, wet along the graying eyebags. He looks at Woojin, dark and sparkling, like he can't believe he's so blessed to be sucking Woojin's cock.

 

"Coming," Woojin grunts, but doesn't pull out all the way. He leaves the tip in so Chris can pump his shaft and suck down the second orgasm, pathetic as it might be. Woojin's amazed he has cum left in him, but he supposes that's what he gets for not fucking often. His cock falls from Chris's lips and Chris, with flushed cheeks, opens his mouth and shows off the sticky white pooled on his tongue before closing his lips and swallowing.

 

 _Wow_ , Woojin thinks dumbly.

 

"You do this often?" Is what Woojin asks instead, kind of breathless.

 

"Not as often as I'd like," Chris admits, thumbing Woojin's drying cum off his cheek.

 

"Shit," Woojin says. "Let me get that."

 

Chris stays on his knees as Woojin peels open a sanitary wipe and cleans his mess off Chris's face. He's quiet and obedient, tilting his face and closing his eyes so that Woojin can even get at the bit that fell across his eyelashes.

 

"Sorry," Woojin mumbles as he gently pinches at Chris's eyelashes.

 

"S'okay," Chris mumbles back. "You're nicer than other guys."

 

Woojin's heart squeezes involuntarily. He knows that game too well. He'd played every position he could field, but they all sucked when he was paired with a guy who didn't give a single fuck about Woojin or anything other than getting off quick and making it to his six-month anniversary dinner date with his girlfriend. Even the out guys weren't much better—the good ones had been dating since high school and the rest had too much baggage for Woojin to carry on top of pre-pharm coursework.

 

But of course Chris wouldn't know how badly that all sucked. Not yet. Or maybe he did, and that's why he tried to do whatever the hell this was supposed to be with his local pharmacist. Chris is hard, but doesn't say anything about it. Neither does Woojin. He feels guilty though, so he asks, "Hey, do you actually want that flu shot?"

 

"Uh," Chris says. "Sure?"

 

So Woojin opens a package and swabs Chris's arm, sticking him with the shot in silence. It feels like a transaction of some kind—two orgasms for a flu shot. Woojin wishes Chris still needed his medication so Woojin could at least give it to him for free. As it stands, they kind of look each other over and slink out of the vaccine cubicle, Woojin back to his job and soon-to-be lunch break, and Chris to whatever the hell it was that he did.

 

"Oh," Woojin says, remembering the pill bottle. "Let me get you a new bottle."

 

"Oh, no, that's okay," Chris says, taking it from him. "It's, ah, let's call it a good luck charm." He offers Woojin a tentative smile and shakes the pill bottle. His cheek dimple unevenly and Woojin's heart squeezes again. He offers Chris his own awkward smile and a single wave. He watches Chris's receding back until he passes through the automatic sliding doors.

 

He thinks he'll take the long lunch break Jimin offered him after all. Yeah.

 

**Author's Note:**

> no nsfw, but skz twitter @ [whiskerprince](http://www.twitter.com/whiskerprince)
> 
>  


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